


Ticklish

by TheShitCook



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluffy, Fluffyfest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tickles, giggly sex, just a reason to be fluffy, maybe a little plot but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 03:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13309659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShitCook/pseuds/TheShitCook
Summary: Daryl finds out that Paul is ticklish.





	Ticklish

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago, went in and fixed some grammatical errors, but the plot is the same. I hope you guys like it.

     The first time, it was the tips of Daryl’s fingers brushing over the side of Paul’s ribcage as he woke sleepily, eyes blinking up at the wooden ceiling of their shared home in Alexandria. The gesture simply meant to solidify Paul’s presence, that he hadn’t rolled himself out of their bed earlier in the morning to head out on a run without him or do everything else under the sun. he always had something to do, somewhere to be, somebody to talk to. Daryl just wanted to make sure today wasn’t going to start out as one of those days.

     The uncontrollable, shivering twitch that followed this action was not at all expected. It was as if the smaller man had been burned by the feather-light touch.

     Daryl’s eyebrows scrunched together in concern and he peered over to see Paul sitting himself up straight and smoothing his hair out of his face nervously. Daryl pushed off the bed to lean on his elbows and reached for him a second time, palm gliding over his back rather than his side. Paul didn’t flinch this time and Daryl’s eyes raked over his side, looking for any signs of an injury that he’d been trying to hide from prying but properly concerned eyes.

     “Morning babe…” Paul yawned and stretched his arms over his head, fingers locking together and popping satisfactorily. He rolled his neck around his shoulders and dropped his arms back to his sides before patting Daryl’s leg playfully through the sheets. “Time to face the day.” He gave his knee a quick squeeze and planted a short, peck of a kiss to Daryl’s cheek.

     “Mornin’…” Daryl grumbled as he continued to look at him suspiciously, watching him climb out of bed and pad bare footedly towards their bathroom. Daryl rolled his eyes and flopped back into the mattress, figuring he must have imagined it in his sleepy daze. And if not… Paul wouldn’t be able to hide whatever it was for long anyway.

 

     The second time it happened, the two had been brawling in Hilltops courtyard. Like a couple of dogs getting in their play time or two elementary school boys rough housing. Slightly more advanced and certainly deadlier, but nothing they hadn’t done before.

     Sharp, right hooks were thrown and dodged with practiced ease, high kicks were blocked with arms that resembled tree trunks more so than human appendages. Elbows meant to collide with faces were tricked around and thrown to the side while heels dug into the dry, dirt path to keep both bulky and slender forms standing. Daryl distinctly remembers thinking to himself how much he enjoys times like these almost as much as he enjoys their “brawling” between the bed sheets. Keeping his body in shape while still being able to touch and (not-so-secretly) grope at his boyfriend between practice kicks and punches.

     Paul dropped to the ground when Daryl charged forward and the smaller man rolled between his legs, landing in a kneeling position and smirking over his shoulder. He knew that he could have kicked his leg up at any point there and sacked the larger man as he rolled, taking him down in one fell swoop. Judging by the filthy glare that Daryl shot him back, he knew it too, teeth gritting and short huff seething through. He was more frustrated at himself though than at Paul, they both knew that as well. The play fighting was all in good fun and hardly, if ever, ended in hurt feelings or bruised flesh. Though Daryl’s ego always took a bit of a beating whenever Paul would break out his more advanced techniques and pin him to the ground like a predator taking down his prey, feral grin and all.

     Paul jumped back into a standing position and Daryl lurched forward again, not too surprised when one of his legs came flying towards his head. Daryl reached his hand out to catch it while the other balled into a heavy fist when his grip on the dirt beneath his soles shifted slightly. His hand barely grazed the inside of Paul’s knee as it continued it’s path to flop uselessly forward and he cursed himself with a sneer. He prepared himself for the impending headache that would most certainly follow after getting one of Paul’s deadly kicks to the side of his melon, when nothing came, and Paul was yelping away like he’d just been struck unexpectedly.

     “HA- Stop.” Jesus’s voice went from startled and slightly breathless to stern in seconds, flipping like a switch and leaving Daryl dumbfounded. Paul placed both hands on his bent knees and leaned forward, hair falling in front of his face in the way that never failed to mesmerize the older man. “I think that’s good for today.” Paul looked up to give Daryl one of his award-winning smiles and Daryl nodded slowly in response, not knowing how else to react to Paul’s strange behaviour. He figured that if something was truly wrong with him, he would tell him sooner or later. And if not soon enough, he’d just make him talk.

 

     Daryl finally figured it out the third time.

     Paul was on top of him, thighs clenched around his waist and fingers twisting in the collar of his shirt where he straddled him on their couch. Daryl, groaning against Paul’s mouth as he sucked at his tongue, slowly began to undress the smaller man. His fingers fumbled dumbly and his toes curled in his socks as he ground his hips upward. Paul moaned raunchily to goad him on and Daryl quickened his pace, pulling the tee over Paul’s head and sitting up to gnaw at his collarbone. Daryl’s palms pressed flatly against Paul’s abdomen and traveled slowly upward and outward. When his fingers pressed gently against each side of Paul’s body, the younger man twitched violently and pushed Daryl back, hand pressed firmly against his chest.

     Daryl’s features contorted with concern and he pressed his lips together in a firm line, hands releasing Paul completely and falling to his sides.

     “Don’t like me touchin’ ya anymore?” Daryl tried to keep the hurt from his tone but it bled through and Paul threw up his hands in surrender. A wincing shrug that made Daryl’s insides churn and his mind immediately race towards the worst conclusion.

     “It’s not that at all…” Paul grabbed Daryl’s hands as he spoke, uncurling his fists and placing them on his hips. Daryl’s thumbs brushed over the soft flesh covered his protruding hipbones and Paul shivered, grinding downward almost out of instinct. “I love it when you touch me, it’s just… my sides are really-” Paul frowned like he didn’t know how to finish his thoughts, cheeks going red and tongue poking out to wet dry lips.

     And then it clicked. The rusty wheels that picked up on friendly human behaviour turned in his mind and he looked up at Paul with awe; eyes shining at him mischievously and one corner of his mouth lilting into a grin that exposed his canines. Daryl’s arm snaked around Paul’s back to hold him still, thick muscles of his biceps and forearm sliding against his skin and trapping Paul against his own body.

     “Ticklish…?” Daryl finished his sentence and when Paul glared at him like he could melt him with his eyes, Daryl knew he’d hit the nail on the head. Daryl was now slowly sliding his free hand from where it rested on Paul’s hip up along his side and pressing teasingly against his ribs. Paul’s eyes went wide and he shook his head slowly, glaring down at Daryl warningly.

     “Don’t.” Paul’s voice was stern and Daryl’s grin only grew wider, fingers beginning to dance and scrape gently. Paul huffed through his nose and his chest stuttered and puffed out as he tried to readjust. Daryl chuckled and nosed at Paul’s chest, trying to hide his smile in the slowly heating flesh as he grasped tighter to Paul’s body. Paul wiggled and started to laugh as Daryl picked up his speed and started to explore his body, tickling every inch of skin on his torso.

     “For- hah, ha ha! F-for fucks sake Daryl! STOP!” Paul fell backwards on the couch and Daryl followed, covering him to keep him from escaping.

     “No.” Daryl laughed adamantly and blew a raspberry against Paul’s chest, traveling down to his stomach and doing it again just because Paul squealed so happily when he did. “Your legs ‘r ticklish too, right?” Daryl teased and tugged the rim of his jeans down until they rested mid-thigh. Paul shoved him backwards and sucked in air like he’d been starved of it.

     “No!” He demanded and sat himself upright. His face was red with exertion and his hair was a complete mess, sticking up in all the wrong places. He looked wild and panicked and humorous all at once and that shouldn’t have affected Daryl as much as it did but he could already feel the arousal from their make out session earlier stinging at his nerves anew.

     “You mad?” Daryl asked, half jokingly. He could still see the laughter in Paul’s features and his eyes were smiling, though he was trying desperately to make them steely and agitated.

     “I WILL kick your ass.” He threatened and Daryl snorted, pulling at the buttons of Paul’s jeans to continue stripping the smaller man. “I’m serious Dixon, I will take you down if you try that again.” Paul continued and Daryl just shook his head as he yanked Paul’s pants all the way down and off his ankles. The bottom of Paul’s foot collided with Daryl’s face as soon as his legs were free and Daryl huffed, hand wrapping around his ankle and holding him there.

     “I’ve still got three other limbs, don’t think you’re safe just ‘cause you nabbed one of them.” Paul admonished the hunter and Daryl just chuckled against the sole of his foot. He peeked his tongue out from between his lips and made circles over the arched flesh with the point of it. Paul yelped and tried to flinch away, but Daryl held him still, drawing patterns and random words over the twitching and flexing muscles. Paul laughed and whined breathlessly before using his other foot to kick at Daryl’s chin, shoving him upward. The force of Paul’s foot snapped his jaw shut, tongue still lolled out and caught between his teeth. The image reminded Paul very much of a cat who’d been caught misbehaving.

     Paul was instantly howling with laughter at the sight, both legs going limp as he wrapped his arm around his stomach and doubled forward. Daryl smirked inwardly and crawled over top of him, tongue still caught between his lips.

     “Hmm?” Daryl made a questioning noise as he pressed his nose against Paul’s, forcing the smaller man to look him in the eyes. Paul tried to control his snickering, his nose scrunching up and eyebrows furrowing. His mouth squeezed shut in a tight line with upturned corners that did nothing to hide the mirth from his face. Daryl wiggled his eyebrows and Paul snorted as he fell into another fit, physically falling back into the couch cushions and covering his face with his hands. Daryl dropped himself on top of Paul and smirked as he finally put his tongue away.

     “You- you- you are ridiculous!” Paul giggled and Daryl smiled fondly, his own chest rumbling with soft laughter. He pressed his face into Paul’s sternum and wrapped his hands around either side of Paul’s ribs, no intention of tickling him this time. Paul continued to vibrate with laughter as he wrapped his arms around the back of Daryl’s head and neck, holding him close as the hunter started pressing giggling kisses against his skin.

     Daryl continued to leave gentle, fluttering kisses over the trembling flesh until he reached Paul’s shoulder, which he gave a teasing bite. Paul shrugged at him and Daryl licked at the marks he left behind, flat of his tongue drawing over the flesh in apology.

     “I love you… so much.” Paul’s laughter finally began to die down as he carded his fingers through Daryl’s hair. He panted and gasped for air as Daryl’s mouth moved over to suck and kiss at his throat. “Fuck, my stomach hurts.” Paul grinned and looked down at him fondly, eyes wet and round, too big and beautiful to belong to a man. Paul chewed at his lower lip and Daryl leaned up to catch it with his own, kissing him slowly and sweetly. Daryl could still feel Paul smiling as he began to lick his way inside, tongue hot and wet as it slid against Paul’s.

     Daryl didn’t pull away until both their lips were slick and he’d gnawed a noticeable mark into Paul’s upper lip. Paul was still grinning as Daryl leaned down to press his mouth against his belly, nuzzling at the heated flesh and moving his head around in an over dramatic, nuzzling gesture. Paul snickered and Daryl scraped his stubbly chin against the sensitive skin, just to watch him jump and shiver. Then he did it a few more times. Paul placed both hands on either side of Daryl’s jaw and squeezed gently, making his cheeks swell and lips fall into a pout. Daryl stuck his tongue out again and Paul snickered, releasing him.

     Daryl traveled lower to press his nose into the hollow of Paul’s hip bone, breath coming out hot against his thin, cotton boxers. Paul’s breathless laughs turned sensual as Daryl began to mouth at him through the fabric, lips insistent on bringing him to full hardness so fast that all the blood that had pooled in his cheeks rushed to his groin. Daryl found himself wondering if he could make the smaller man laugh and come at the same time. Now that would be a sight.

     “Guess yer not ticklish here or I would’ve noticed by now…” Daryl mused jokingly and wrapped Paul’s legs around his shoulders, fingers digging into the meat of his calves and trailing to his thighs. Paul sighed and dropped his head back on the arm rest, silly smile still stretching across his features as his muscles relaxed themselves from the torturous tickling.

     “Daryl… bed!” Paul commanded and Daryl shook his head, making sure Paul felt the movement against his torso.

     “Don’ wanna let ya go.” Daryl held tighter to Paul’s legs and released another puff of air against his now rock-hard erection.

     “Then don’t, but _please_ take me to bed.” Paul pouted and his eyes, if humanly possibly, grew larger as he pleaded. Daryl rolled his eyes and tickled at the backs of Paul’s knees as punishment which made Paul yelp in surprise again. He tried to scramble back on the couch but Daryl was already one step ahead of him, stalking over top of him. He nuzzled at Paul’s throat and grumbled happily when Paul snickered and turned to give him more room. Daryl swooped him up in his arms moments later and started towards their bedroom.

     He stumbled a few times on his way up the stairs, but he’ll blame Paul for being so distracting as he wiggles in his arms. At some point, Daryl ends up pinning the smaller man to the wall at the landing in the middle of the stair case, grinding against him as Paul worked Daryl’s belt off and threw it towards their front door. It clattered noisily at the bottom of the stairs and Daryl let out a strained breath when Paul finally undid the buttons of his jeans and yanked at the zipper until his cock had a little more breathing room.

     Paul gave another short laugh at his sudden impatience and Daryl smiled against his throat, eyes shutting periodically as he inhaled the ever-present scent of sweat, pine, and iron. It stuck to Paul’s skin, clothing, and bedsheets like it was glued there and it attracted Daryl like a moth to an open flame. Just as dangerous and incredibly addicting.

     Daryl noticed the fine sheen of sweat that now covered Paul’s nearly nude body and he dragged his tongue over his shoulders and collarbone, lapping at him like a dog.

     “Daryl, don’t- I’m all sticky and gross.” Paul laughed and Daryl just grunted as he continued up the remainder of the stairs, kicking the bedroom door open and throwing Paul across the bed. He shucked his shirt and pants before joining him. Daryl clambered over top of him, arms caging around his chest and legs intertwining as he leaned down to lick at the slick skin.

     “Not gross…” Daryl mumbled and continued his path downwards. Daryl liked every way that Paul tasted, at any given time. Covered in blood, sweat, or dirt, it didn’t matter. Just reminded him that the man beneath him was alive and _fighting._ Taking down his opponents with brutal force and then coming home just in time to help Maggie and Carol plant a new batch of crops. Always busy. Always doing something. And after, always coming home to let Daryl pull him apart and make him howl like he’d never been fucked so right before.

     Daryl didn’t just like Paul’s taste at times like these, he _craved_ it, like he did air and water. And, as of this night, he found something new to hunger for. The feeling of Paul’s skin twitching as he glides his fingertips over it, feather-light and loving. His face-splitting grin and that laugh that could make his heart stop and breath fall short. His entire body jerking as his lungs emptied and arms flailed to regain some control.

     The list was endless. If he considered himself literate, he could write an entire book of everything that made Paul perfect and run out of room. Daryl’s movements must have faltered as his mind wandered because Paul was suddenly cradling his scruffy jaw in his hands and pulling him to look up. Paul swiped his thumb across his cheek and said something that Daryl couldn’t quite catch because he’d just noticed that he was tearing up.

     “Babe?” Paul repeated and Daryl blinked stupidly at him, swallowing audibly before diving back up to kiss him. “Daryl- what’s… what’s wrong?” Paul gasped through desperate kisses and Daryl shook his head as he removed Paul’s boxers, finally tossing them towards the hamper.

     “Jus’ love ya.” Daryl sighed and realized his voice was still shaking with the echoes of his laughter and the threat of a full-on sob-fest. “Make me so happy…” Daryl added and Paul wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders to force him into a bone-melting embrace. Paul reached down to palm at Daryl’s cock through the thin cotton of his boxers.

     “Show me.” Paul smirked and Daryl moaned as he fumbled to find the tube of lubricant they kept near their bed at all times. He managed to get a handle on it and uncapped it just in time for Paul to rid him of his own boxers. Daryl sat up on his haunches and Paul followed, putting his hand out in request. Daryl pulled in a stuttering breath and swallowed again.

     “Still gotta prepare yo-”

     “I already- uhm…” Paul flushed bright red and cleared his throat. “Earlier, before you got home… I was thinking about you and I got a bit carried away so…” Paul finished his sentence by motioning with his hand again, silently asking Daryl to squirt some lube into his palm. Daryl did so, but just barely. His brain short circuiting at the idea of Paul sprawled out on their bed or in their shower, fucking himself open on his fingers while he moaned Daryl’s name.

     Paul’s hand was on him seconds later, slick and tight around his throbbing length and he turned to complete putty, giggling stupidly as he continued to imagine it. Paul, needy and flushed as he spread himself open and brought himself to orgasm. Daryl was ripped from his musings seconds later by Paul’s thumb digging into the slit of his dick, precum dribbling out as he automatically arched into the feeling and keened.

     “I love seeing you like that, I really do…” Paul teased and dropped back onto the sheets, tossing the bottle of lube under the bed and wrapping his legs around Daryl’s thighs. “but I need you to fuck me now.” Paul continued and Daryl shivered so violently he thought he was about to jump out of his damn skin. He blanketed himself over Paul’s body and brought his lips to the side of Paul’s head, just behind his ear. Near enough that he could hear the rumble of his own voice, hoarse from years of underuse and chain smoking.

     “What were ya thinkin’ ‘bout while you were touchin’ yerself?” Daryl goaded and spread Paul’s legs with his palms, pressing the tip of his cock against Paul’s entrance. “Thinkin’ ‘bout this?” Daryl groaned as the head pushed in and Paul tightened around him. Daryl’s fingers teased at the backs of Paul’s knees again and he was about to flinch away when Daryl suddenly bottomed out inside of him. He moaned loud enough for even the other colonies to get a good ear-full, lungs emptying until he was left gasping for breath.

     “Oh- FUCK! Daryl!” Paul nearly sobbed When Daryl started to move, hips rolling rhythmically and snapping forward whenever he felt the head brush Paul’s prostate. Reducing Paul to a blubbering mess as his entire body hummed with energy and want. Daryl placed one of Paul’s legs over his shoulder to get a better angle and, judging by the high-pitched whine that he was rewarded with, he’d found the right spot.

     Paul’s arms shot back and over his head, gripping at the pillow like it would somehow keep Daryl from fucking him out of existence. The muscles in his arms bunched with effort and his stomach tightened similarly, belly taught and shuddering. Daryl used one of his hands to hold Paul’s hip in place and the other snapped forward to pull one of Paul’s hands from his death grip on the pillow. He tangled their fingers together and ground his stomach against Paul’s swollen prick as it leaked heavily and he thrust steadily.

     Sweat pooled on his back and behind his knees as his hips stuttered and his teeth dug into the soft flesh between Paul’s neck and shoulder. Paul shuddered powerfully and his grip on Daryl’s hand tightened as his back arched off the mattress. Daryl could practically see his eyes rolling into the back of his skull as every muscle inside of him seized up and his mouth lolled open.

     “I-I’m coming! Ah- _Daryl!_ ” Paul moaned his name like it was a curse word, a prayer, and a cry for help all wrapped up into one wanton sound that made his balls tighten and his cock throb. Paul choked on his own pleasured noises as he finally came, dick pulsating against Daryl’s belly and cum painting his chest. His forearm practically vibrated with the effort to keep hold of Daryl’s hand as Daryl went tumbling over the edge with him.

     “Paul!” Daryl gasped as he spilled himself inside of his lover, filling him with his own seed. Hot and thick, Daryl filled him until some of it seeped out around the sides of his throbbing prick. Paul convulsed around him as he rode his own high, muscles sore and sweaty from the strain of holding himself together for so long. Daryl sucked at the mark he’d left on Paul’s throat earlier. The indents in Paul’s flesh felt almost deep enough to have broken through his skin and he grazed it with his tongue affectionately in an apologetic gesture.

     His body dropped like lead on top of the slighter man and Paul made a sound like an “oof”. Daryl would have laughed again if he wasn’t so completely out of breath that he was practically gasping for it on top of Paul. His lungs burned like he’d just run from a pack of walkers rather than fuck his boyfriend into oblivion. The fingers of Paul’s free hand skimmed the sides of Daryl’s ribs and the hunter did snort this time, knocking them away.

     “’M not ticklish.” Daryl murmured and rolled over, turning Paul as he did so that he could curl his body around Paul’s back.

     “Everybody’s ticklish somewhere, I’m just gonna have to find it.” Paul teased lazily and Daryl kissed the back of his head as he shuffled closer, pressing Paul tightly to his chest.

     “Yeah… good luck with that.”


End file.
